


We're Going to Disney World!

by mochisquish



Series: Meanwhile in the Real World... [1]
Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Comedy, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-12
Updated: 2011-10-12
Packaged: 2017-10-24 13:30:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/263999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochisquish/pseuds/mochisquish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gang heads to the happiest place on earth with one of the unhappiest campers on earth, CLU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're Going to Disney World!

**Author's Note:**

> Originally a fill for [this prompt](http://tronkinkmeme.livejournal.com/3950.html?thread=2172270#t2172270) on the [tronkinkmeme](http://tronkinkmeme.livejournal.com).

It was the happiest place on earth and at least five of six visitors were elated to be there. CLU scoured the entrance to the Magic Kingdom, expression judgmental as he noted the clownish colors splattered on pretty much everything. Tron walked through the gates with a cautious excitement, overwhelmed by the amount of tiny Users, while Quorra hopped around, finding the children pocket-size and adorable.

Kevin, Alan, and Sam took great pains to prepare the Grid residents for life in the real world, versing them in etiquette and customs and this was one of many tests to see if they could successfully adapt. The first part of the trip was spent at the mall to outfit everyone in appropriate “human” attire, and that experience alone should have served as warning for how the rest of the vacation would go.

The clothing in the real world was terribly loose and unstructured and there was a period of shock for Tron, who felt as if his safety blanket had been ripped away. He requested tighter and tighter garments and Sam insisted no, but Flynn said he should do as he wanted - who was he to say how people should live their lives, man – and Tron came out of the store wearing skinny jeans and a shirt that hugged his chest so closely it put hoes to shame.

CLU draped himself in every black article he could find until he looked like he escaped from the Secret Service. He searched for a cape and compromised on a pea coat, and Alan meant to warn about the heat but didn’t, because he couldn’t deny the Program had good taste.

Quorra proved to be the least amount of trouble. Flynn handed her a credit card and Sam pushed her into the ladies’ department and she came back with a sundress that resembled a lollipop, but it still made the most sense.

“Okay, if anyone gets lost, just call one of us,” Kevin stated, taking pride in the fact he could resume his role as responsible adult. “Alan, I guess I’ll page you and you can try to find a payphone, even though I don’t think they exist anymore. I mean, I appreciate you kept my pager these past 20 years, but it’s time to get a cell.” Alan regarded him wryly, unable to tell if he was joking. “You know what – just don’t get lost. No one will be able to help and you will probably die here.”

Flynn dug into the back pocket of his Hawaiian shorts, pulled out a wad of bills and slapped it in his son’s hand. “Here you are, kids. Get yourselves some ice cream or a souvenir or a prostitute or something.”

Alan shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose which was greased with sunscreen, and they promptly slid back down. “Where should we begin? Sam? It’s been a while since we’ve been here. What’s your favorite?”

“I think Quorra would like ‘it’s a small world,’” the younger man replied, index finger running over a pocket map.

“You’ll like that one too, Tron,” Flynn commented. “Lots of bright colors and mechanical puppets representing cultures from all over the world. It’s totally trippy.” He laughed to himself suddenly and directed his attention at Alan. “Remember that time at Disneyland on our day off and I was completely sto-”

Alan shook his head fervently to shut Kevin up, finding the topic inappropriate. “You were banned for a year after you jumped out of the boat and pumped your fists in the air, quoting _Rocky II_. I was never so mortified.”

“You were in shock the entire way home, like you didn’t smell it on me.”

“You always smelt bad - like sweat and nerds.”

“Anyway, that’s the best way to experience the ride.” Kevin paused, catching his son’s amazed expression and how all the Programs cocked their heads, not comprehending at all. “But you shouldn’t do drugs. Or drink. Don’t start drinking, Sam, it, you know -” He waved hands around his face. “- Messes with your brain.”

Alan wrinkled his brow but didn’t interject, because it had been decades since Kevin played the role of father and he was trying his best. Failing, but trying.

They made their way to “it’s a small world,” and Quorra and Tron found the giant maze that was the line a spectacle in and of itself. Sam grabbed at Quorra’s dress as she tried to slip through the metal barriers, aware of the death glares other visitors were giving her. He was reduced to yelling for Tron, who treated the area like a giant set of parallel bars, and had to explain this part was supposed to be frustrating, not fun.

They piled into a vibrantly colored boat and Alan sighed, remembering the seats not being quite as snug, and though he could admit he no longer had the body of a teenager, Flynn sitting with his legs spread open wasn’t helping either.

Sam glanced behind at CLU and Tron who were overflow onto the next bench. If he was smart he’d switch with one of them to make sure they stayed out of trouble, but he was between his dad and Quorra and fuck it, they couldn’t possibly disrupt anything in two minutes.

The ride had barely begun before CLU was stepping over Tron, head popping up next to Kevin’s, forcing Alan to lean to the left to reclaim his personal space.

“Having fun, Flynn?” he asked, voice low and syrupy.

Kevin hesitated a second before replying, “Yeah, CLU, thanks…”

The Program said nothing, just stared at his User before slowly slinking backwards into his seat. He sat straight-faced at first, expression slowly twisting into one of discomfort as the ride went on and he found the bright colors and puppets and singing a bit too alien.

Tron was especially engrossed when they entered Asia, head whipping back and forth between the puppets and the Japanese couple sitting next to him. If the ride was any indication, these people hailed from some kind of magical land. There were so many questions, so many things he needed to know about these people, and he watched them intensely, like a predatory animal, until the man was unnerved enough to scoot over and put a protective arm around his date.

The group filed out once the boat stopped and gathered under the hot sun. Quorra chanted the theme song, over and over until Sam had flashbacks to grade school and Lamb Chop and “The Song That Never Ends.” Alan stared at her from the corner of his eye as if he wished to say something but wouldn’t, and thankfully didn’t have to once she switched to humming.

“Either that depiction of the world was inaccurate or you purposefully falsified information, Flynn,” Tron accused, expression serious though there was disappointment in his voice.

Kevin raised his eyebrows, a bit taken aback. “Tough crowd, man.”

“It’s just a ride, Tron,” Alan explained, “for enjoyment.”

“I find it odd you get enjoyment out of lies.”

Alan shrugged to Kevin, washing his hands of it. CLU rolled his eyes, making no effort to hide his opinion on how naïve Tron was to accept anything Flynn said as truth.

“Someone take him to Epcot,” Sam suggested. “There are actual foreigners there, like Canadians.”

CLU scowled and crossed his arms. “No, I don’t find that impressive. Impress me.”

“Alright, then… Tower of Terror?”

“I would like to meet these Canadians,” Tron ventured, but CLU simply talked over him.

“What’s so terrifying about it?”

Flynn waved a hand in front of his son’s face to get his attention, stepping on CLU’s toes as much as he stepped on Tron’s. “We’ll meet you there, okay, kiddo? C’mon, Alan.”

Alan sounded unsure, said, “Why do you need me?” but followed anyway, back towards Main Street, U.S.A.

Sam frowned, resentful he was left alone to babysit a disgruntled manchild, and though Quorra and Tron were more responsible, were still unfamiliar with the real world and required his devout attention as well.

He opened his mouth to speak but Quorra’s voice filled the air instead as she squealed, “Look, Sam! A real princess!”

Sam craned his neck in an attempt to see past the sea of people clouding whatever Quorra was pointing to. “Oh, no, it’s just -” he began, but she was already gone.

He gave a quick look to CLU and Tron before deciding to leave them there and follow after the ISO. Quorra was like a ninja, weaving through the crowd and hopping over bushes to reach a young woman in a stunning gold gown sitting on a bench.

Sam’s stomach sank as he saw Quorra bounce excitedly in front of Belle, praying to God she wouldn’t say anything questionable. He stumbled towards them just in time to hear, “I’ve learned all about you! How did you manage to keep your head? Is it true you had an incestuous relationship with your brother?”

Belle smiled politely though her eyes were wide in shock.

“No, Quorra, that, uh…that was someone else.” Sam gently pulled at her arm, smiling awkwardly at the mortified costume player. “I’m sorry, she’s, you know, one of those people who don’t believe in electricity. She grew up without television – it’s all very tragic.”

Belle spoke sweetly, trying her best to salvage the situation. “No need to be embarrassed. I grew up without such luxuries as well.”

“Do they not have electricity in England?”

“She’s French,” Sam muttered before remembering he’d rather be running away.

Belle nodded in confirmation but gave him the eye, encouraging the two to move along before a group of frolicking children reached her.

“Marie?!”

“We’re going. I’m sorry.”

Sam pulled Quorra along as she stumbled, head twisted back to admire the beautiful woman she was forbidden to speak to.

“I’m so sorry, Sam,” she began, voice quivering. “I know it wasn’t proper of me to address royalty like that. Have I shamed your family?”

Sam sighed but didn’t have the heart to break hers and answered, “No…it’s okay. Just follow my example from now on. People don’t like it when you bring up how they bedded their brother and the French don’t appreciate being called English and –” He cut himself off, knowing he could go on forever.

Quorra nodded and hummed, “Oooh,” like she had a great revelation, and Sam could do little but hope that she had.

__________

Flynn tugged on Alan’s sleeve, pointing in the direction of a loud, whirling noise interspersed with high-pitched, painful cries. “Alan, the tea cups.”

“I can’t do round rides and I know you will do everything in your power to make me vomit.” His voice suddenly lightened as he exclaimed, “Oh, The Hall of Presidents is right over there.”

“I’ll do the Presidents if you ride the tea cups. And yes, it’s exactly what it sounds like.”

Alan didn’t know what that sounded like, but agreed because compromise was crucial in any relationship. They went to the Mad Tea Party first, Flynn doing everything in his power to make Alan vomit, and like most things the technical genius put his mind to, he enjoyed success. Luckily Alan was too sick to do much berating and was content to simply sit in The Hall of Presidents while his stomach leaked back down his throat. He was happy then, almost forgiving, until Flynn began snoring during a speech by John Quincy Adams.

The two left the theater – Alan still queasy and Flynn with a fresh bruise on his arm – and finally headed towards the Tower of Terror to meet up with the rest of their group.

__________

Sam yelled, “CLU, Tron! Let’s go!”

Tron’s palms were lifted to the sky and CLU’s hands hovered over them, frozen in a game of Red Hands. The two had developed a strange fascination with the children’s game which Sam taught them after License Plate Bingo made him want to off himself. CLU ridiculed license plates as a primitive form of vehicle identification, Tron insisted on knowing the entire history of every state motto, and Quorra recited anagrams of plate numbers aloud. At that point, Sam decided they should hit each other instead.

Both looked up at the sound of their names and Tron started towards Sam and Quorra while CLU lingered a moment, upset their match had been disrupted. They walked together towards Hollywood Studios, Tron dodging children like they were viruses and CLU pushing them not-so-subtly out of the way.

Sam pointed into the distance, said, “ _Star Wars_ , we gotta hit that.”

CLU waved him off. “Why would giant balls of plasma be warring? Ridiculous.”

“You’re going to travel through space with a Wookie and Harrison Ford and you’re going to like it,” he growled.

Quorra chimed, “I always wanted to see outer space!” and Tron nodded his agreement, and per usual, CLU was overruled.

Tron and Quorra were on the edge of their seats during the _Star Wars_ thrill ride, throwing their bodies left and right as the mechanical cart moved to dodge the asteroids and Starfighters on screen. CLU was less sold, looking around his seat, unsure how it could appear they were moving when they were not.

“They’re fooling you!” he shouted, voice drowned out by laser cannons. “You’re all morons!”

Tron flew into him, more forcefully than necessary, pinning CLU to the side of the seat and reducing his yells to grunts and groans. Tron left the _Star Wars_ ride that day feeling more satisfied than most.

They hit the Tower of Terror with still no sign of Alan or Kevin and Sam begged the Grid inhabitants to wait patiently with him. Quorra was entranced every time she caught site of someone carrying a hotdog or cotton candy and she begged Sam to let her experience the same joy.

“I’ll buy you whatever you want, Quorra, but please just chill for a second.”

CLU began, “I would like -”

“No, not you,” Sam snapped. His gaze landed on CLU but Tron stood close enough that he caught Sam’s eye, and he lowered his head, dejected.

The young man’s expression immediately softened and he said, “You can have something, Tron.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Neither was trapping my dad in the Grid for 20 years.”

“Trivial,” CLU huffed. “You shouldn’t hold grudges, Sam Flynn.” The Program’s attention was focused on his own misery and he was therefore perplexed when a tiny hand pawed at his leg.

"Daddy?"

CLU whipped around, yelled, "Your father is dead!"

There was a second of confusion before the boy broke down, face scrunched so tightly he could hardly see through the tears flooding his eyes.

"Jesus, CLU," Sam gasped, drawing his attention first to the older man then looking around cautiously to see if there were witnesses.

"I meant metaphorically," the Program drawled. "Obviously if he can’t spare his child five minutes of his attention _then he doesn't love him_."

Quorra took the boy by the hand, said, “I’ll help him find his dad,” and skipped off as quickly as she could.

CLU shouted after them, "What has your father given you - that crooked nose? Let me tell you about disappointment and regret!"

Kevin and Alan came up at that moment, able only to guess what had led to such an outburst. “Lighten up, man. Here,” Flynn said awkwardly, outstretching a hand which held a round black hat with mouse ears. “Look, it has your name on it."

CLU snatched the hat, inspecting it with his nose in the air. "This says Cletus."

"It was the closest I could find." Flynn ignored the Program’s disapproving air as he pulled another hat from the bag. "Tron, for you."

"Anthony," Tron read aloud, slightly confused.

"Well, you know, _Tony_ and that's close to Tron, so..."

“Oh, yes. Thank you, Flynn.” He put the hat on dutifully and CLU watched from behind, glaring. That was good enough for Kevin, who encouraged the group to head into the Tower of Terror before things got rockier.

" _Tower of Terror_ , ha!” CLU laughed. “I've built skyscrapers five times as tall and a million times more impressive."

"Are you an architect, mister?” came a small voice beside him. “I want to be an architect when I grow up."

"I'm an architect...of fate."

CLU faced forward again and the boy stared a moment before his mother tugged his arm and told him to stop bothering adults.

The room darkened and there was a dramatic introduction and it was all well and good, but hardly remarkable. CLU looked around, wondering if the terrifying part involved being trapped in an elevator with a bunch of simpletons.

Then suddenly his body was light and he was falling and HOLY CRAP WHAT WAS THIS. A scream escaped him and it was so ear-shattering and shrill Alan had to look over to confirm the Program hadn’t switched seats with a little girl. CLU took a breath and continued screaming where he left off and Kevin laughed so hard he thought he would lose it.

CLU was unnerved after that, asked a million questions about every ride before they rode it, questions involving falling and fire and dangerous animals. Flynn made it a point to see the Indiana Jones Epic Stunt Spectacular before they left Hollywood Studios, thoroughly entertained when CLU braced himself in his chair watching Indy dodge a giant boulder, spikes, and flame.

Then they had to hit the Jungle Cruise, with all the crocodiles and snakes, and who could miss The Haunted Mansion because it certainly wasn’t them. CLU took to curling up in a ball, watching his surroundings cautiously over his knees until it got so pathetic that Flynn felt bad and started throwing him on less threatening rides like the Dumbo planes.

By the evening the Users were exhausted and CLU was traumatized, and Alan had to promise Tron and Quorra they could come back tomorrow or risk dealing with a meltdown. Flynn told CLU they’d meet up with everyone later – spend the first half of the day at the pool or arcade – because he needed some downtime anyway…and the rides weren’t everything.


End file.
